


i trust you

by justK



Series: kunten nation [3]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Bottom Qian Kun, Canon Compliant, I mean, KUNTEN NATION, M/M, Not Betaed, Top Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten, and the fact that ten likes to draw and paint, but it was inspired by a pic i saw of kun, give them more love pls, i have no idea what this is, its only mentioned once, not very explicit but it is there, one more member appears, there are brief mentions of sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:21:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27825184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justK/pseuds/justK
Summary: those thoughts that you do not speak of, that haunt you in the ache of midnight. give them to me. i want to have them.
Relationships: Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten/Qian Kun
Series: kunten nation [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1996807
Comments: 5
Kudos: 78





	i trust you

**Author's Note:**

> not a native english speaker, i apologise of any mistake i might have.

fresh air made its way through his bangs, lifting the strands of hair effortlessly, floating around his head like a halo, with the light of the sunset set behind him in the so called _golden hour._ Ten would feel inclined to disagree, because with Kun every moment of the day would shine just as bright. 

it was one of those rare occasions, where they would be unbothered, left behind and all to themselves, with Sicheng silently taking the rest of the kids back _home_ , home as in the small apartment they shared back in korea, or the dorm they would sometimes stay in in china. china, the place to provide land and shelter to the tongue they all shared best, where they could become a family and just _be_ themselves. 

Kun didn't say anything as he sat down on the sofa, he wasn't much of a talker, that role suited Ten best, with a snarky mouth and sassy replies; Kun was rather a listener, calm and quiet and everything that drove Ten _crazy_ in the best of ways.

he _loved_ how he could dive into his silence and just take, _take_ , take, admire Kun and daydream like a little kid, full of hopes and fantasies of princesses and dragons and talking animals, dreaming of Kun's celestial being, imagining a crown on top of his head, Ten dressing himself in dragon's scales and breathing out burning fire to protect them both in the depths of the woods, with only small company that Kun selflessly allowed to be near him. _giving, giving and giving more_. because that was Kun, he never took, he just offered himself as the most beautiful sacrifice, one Ten would happily accept. 

his leader would often drive him _mad_ in the worst of ways too, when he would stay as silent as a rock, not sharing a single thought with Ten, which brought unexplainable desperation to the younger, like some sort of plague that he wasn't able to control as he gasped for air, feeling something creeping up his throat, something fluffy and soft, that would constrict around his neck and silently kill him, like Kun sometimes did. not that he cared, anyways. he would happily die at his hands, or under his feet, threatened by his eyes, or by someone else that wanted Kun as badly as he did. 

Kun was a giver, always serving others without complaining, giving advice, looking after everyone, drying their dongsaengs' tears, and cleaning the sweat after all the hard work, never sharing too much and using just the exact words, prudent, wise and reserved, and just so… _Kun_. 

Ten _loved_ and _despised_ all of him at the same time. 

he _loved_ how Kun would just sit down and listen to whatever useless thing that could come out of his mouth, never judging but just finding even the most marvellous universe in every small detail, embracing his ideas — _their_ ideas, because Kun nurtured and cared for them all — as his own, believing in them with absolutely no objection, encouraging them to reach the skies and further up. he loved Kun when any person was feeling down, and his amazing, selfless leader went to aid, not questioning, only opening his arms to nestle any poor soul that needed reassurance and shelter at the moment, offering only wise words of advice when given the opportunity or when asked for them, he never dared overstep boundaries and he made people feel so incredibly comfortable, that he had come to associate Kun with the best definition of home he could think of. 

he also loved Kun when he smiled and followed them around, looking after them, only making sure they were all alright, laughing at their antics and messing around. he absolutely adored Kun's singing voice, inside his small production room, connecting ideas and rhymes and pieces of lost stories in the sea to create the most beautiful songs, those were rare times where Kun spoke the most. and he loved Kun's warm, caramel silence that never felt uncomfortable nor forced, it was always welcoming, relaxing and _so full of life._

but he _despised_ Kun's silence the most too. he was so terribly disgusted at the way his stomach would curl and flutter at his presence, anticipating, always anticipating any word, any sound, honestly anything, that would unveil and unravel Kun's being and soul before his very eyes, always waiting for something that never quite came. after some years, he had come to get used to it, but the dizziness that came with desiring so much never left, and it always left a bitter taste on the tip of his tongue. Ten just loathed the way his heart would feel so painfully empty at his silence, feeling powerless and abandoned, because Kun refused, he knew unconsciously, to open up to him, or really anybody, for that matter. 

but Ten also loved what he hated so much, because that would fill his insides with determination, and longing, and affection; so he never really gave up, feeling content with whatever little thing Kun would provide, as confusing as it was at times, he could have Kun, and anything was better than not having him at all. 

sometimes Ten would think he had the world in his hands, when Kun was kissing him long and hungry, matching his pace and letting himself be guided by the younger one, doing absolutely everything Ten asked of him. when his lips looked so deliciously _sinful,_ Ten felt the urge to caress the pink swell of them with his thumb, at which Kun immediately opened his mouth to let it in. 

“ _f_ _uck_ ,” slipped past his own lips, catching Kun's attention, who raised his face and opened his eyes as big as they were, looking like a beautiful doll, white, blushing and smooth-skinned. “let me frame your beauty,” Ten asked. “let me immortalise the lovely work of art you are.” 

Kun pulled back, letting Ten's finger free from his mouth, exposed to the cool air, sliding his pretty pink tongue over it one last time. 

he nodded. “of course,” he answered. 

and so Ten would take the camera he kept in his room, slip his finger between Kun's plump lips and photograph every detail, from the moles splashing his face, to his eyes, to his disheveled hair, his lips wrapping around his fingers and his scandalous expression on his face, only for him. later on, Ten would look at the pictures for long hours, drinking in everything about Kun, letting himself drift back to his ocean of memories and listening to Kun's moans echoing in the caves of his mind, feeling inspired and dragging the graphite over the blank canvas on his desk. 

“you shouldn't-” Kun gasped, “you shouldn't leave any marks.” 

unfortunately, Ten was too far gone to listen, sinking, instead, his teeth in the tender skin of Kun's neck, collarbone, chest and shoulders, blooming pretty red, violet and blue bruises on his perfect milky skin, adding his own style to the work of art, highlighting the emotions, twisting the image just enough to change the meaning completely.

Ten grabbed his leader's jaw and twisted his face to the side to admire his messy strokes. 

“i'm afraid it's too late for that, _handsome,_ ” Ten answered and licked a long strip over Kun's neck and cheek. “you look so fucking pretty in shades of violet, the most ethereal muse, any artist would be jealous and willing to kill only to have _you._ ” 

Kun placed his weight over his elbows to lift himself up, attempting to sit, but Ten roughly pushed him down with a hand on his bruised chest. 

“stay there,” came the command. “i'm not done with you, yet.” 

Ten bit down harshly over every patch of skin he could find and deemed adequate for his paintbrush to fall on. illuminating, once done, Kun's shiny skin with flashes, until he felt satisfied enough to set the camera aside, already thinking of a draft of the beautiful body laying beneath him. 

_oil, acrylic, ink, graphite._

_what would suit my muse's body best?_

Kun sang, and Ten thought that was the closest he could have Kun to speaking. the beautiful pitch sculpting words that he could only dream of hearing in a simple talk. he later came to realise communication isn't always with words. he found out, when, one day, while exploring Kun's body with his own, the oldest let out pretty gasps and whines, quite vocal for someone so quiet and pliant. but then Ten felt _blessed,_ because through them, he was able to hear Kun more than he ever had in his life. 

“ride me,” Ten would order him around. “ride me until your gorgeous legs fail. i _wanna_ hear you,” Kun buried his fingertips in Ten's shoulders while Ten buried his own with such force around Kun's waist on top of him, their cocks between their stomachs. “i'm _gonna_ hear you.” 

“ _yes_ ,” Kun moaned, “yes, i will ride you,” and he positioned himself so that his left hand rested on Ten's thigh for support, his back arched slightly in order to grab Ten's dick between his fingers to guide it to his entrance and slowly sink in. “ _a_ _h, ah_.” 

_pretty, pretty_ sounds coming out of his mouth. 

and Ten stared at him with such an intensity, as if he wanted to devour him whole. Kun bounced on his cock, fucking himself with a passion, Ten had to snap some more photographs, because with Kun it was not enough. 

_it was never enough._

_and yet, it somehow sufficed._

Ten could never count how many portraits of Kun he had inside his portfolio, how many raw drafts and sketches he had in so many notebooks; he could never finish showing you his albums framing Kun's details, and he could never tell you how much more he had engraved in his memory. 

all of the works of art were _exquisite_ , but none of them felt complete. not to him at least. because Kun was still reluctant to let him know what his true opinions on the matter were. 

today, though, Ten felt _relieved,_ enlightened and angel-kissed, _blessed_. Kun was there, sitting on the couch in the rooftop of this building, all alone, breathing steadily, one last fading bruise on the left side of his neck, the last remnant of the night they had spent together some nights ago, so good and so filled with pleasure, Ten swore they were laying on clouds. 

Kun was calm as always, letting Ten speak his mind about this last choreography he wanted to put to Kun's last produced track. he only voiced his opinions and agreements, sometimes the admiration he felt for Ten. 

there was only silence after they finished talking, and Ten knew better than complaining. so he just let himself be embraced by the cozy waves of familiarity Kun let out of his body in abundance. he wondered if there was any person who had had the chance to meet Kun, to truly get to be near him, and hate him. he could almost swear it was impossible. Kun was a gift from God himself. 

but then, _Kun spoke_. 

“i've been wanting to tell you something,” he murmured, Ten turned his head at the speed of light and laid his eyes on him, expecting. “ _you love me,_ ” he stated, with no trace of doubt in his voice, still he confirmed his idea, “ _right?_ ” 

“of course i love you,” Ten answered, his hands were sweating so much, it was disgusting. “how could i not?” 

Kun smiled so very lightly, at Ten's blink, it was gone, as if it hadn't been there at all. 

“no matter how hard i try,” he continued, “i can't understand why you love me. and i didn't believe it at the beginning, it's just so difficult, i didn't want any of it, i was so happy — i am so happy with this simple life, that i wanted to make sense of what you feel for me, because you awakened _this_ thing inside of me and i wanted to piece everything together, but i couldn't.” he paused for a moment and only then Ten breathed, he hadn't realised he had been holding his breath. he spoke this time. 

“there's nothing to explain,” he replied, standing up and walking slowly towards where Kun was sitting. Kun stood up before him. “it just _is..._ we just _are_.”

Kun didn't answer. 

“what _i_ don't understand, it's what you're trying to say,” Ten admitted. “you're always so quiet, i really don't know how to interpret it when you speak. you don't do it like this often.” 

“only when necessary, _love_ ,” Kun smiled, all motherly and innocent, but so wise at the same time. “there's time for everything, and this is the time, for me to tell you what i want.” 

Ten almost felt himself go lax in front of him, all to his will, for Kun to do whatever he wanted with him. if, for now, he wanted him to hear, rather than talk, _damn_ , Ten would sew his mouth himself despite the pain and twisted image of it. 

“i was just trying to cage myself, i wanted to pass off as a sane person, protecting my feelings and shielding from you, but love has never been as good with rational people, it is like having not loved at all. i realised... i don't want that. i want to share _everything_ with you. i don't want to be afraid, or ashamed, of showing myself to you, it has never really felt like it. you've always called out for me and i want to call out your name as well, to feel it sweet, and sour, and spicy rolling out of my tongue,” Kun took Ten's hands in his, he desperately placed one on his bony hip, as an anchor to reality, the same way they used to do in a moment of intimacy — the only real, uninterrupted connection they shared. the other hand, Kun placed it over his chest, where Ten could feel the beating of his heart through the fabric of his clothes. “i want you to mess me up. i trust you to come and destroy me.” 

Ten felt his heart beat faster, synchronising with Kun's own. a lonely tear made its way down Ten's face, at the tenderness and indescribable feeling of _victory_ , at how pleased and honoured he felt that Kun trusted him with everything he had. 

“ _Kun..._ ” 

“i'll give you the key to all of me. _i trust you to hurt me_ ,” he gently placed a shaky hand on Ten's soft cheek, looking at him with such fire in his eyes that the sensation turned out to be cold, like Kun's skin late at night. “ _but i have faith that you won't._ ” 

Ten hugged him so tight after that, crying on his chest so hard it would have been embarrassing, but he just loved Kun _so much_ , and he was giving himself to him, not bodywise, he already had that, and he cherished and worshipped him just like Kun deserved. he now had everything he had been forbidden of. 

_do you know how heaven tastes like?_ like salty, happy tears and your beloved's — _Kun_ — essence, all combined. 

he took a picture that afternoon, a photograph of Kun looking as ethereal as always, the sun long forgotten behind, because it was Kun who shone the most, with the beauty of the city paling behind his perfect outline. 

and later on, he painted it. black and white, in coal, graphite, ink, acrylic and oil. he could open a museum where Kun was the central topic at this point. 

_naked,_ was the name of his painting. not a single glimpse of extra skin in sight. and below the title, a brief portrayal:

_the day my muse stripped of his fears for me, the day i went to heaven and never came back._

now, he laid with Kun on bed, naked, stripped of clothes and trepidation; limbs tangling long and skillful around each other. Kun making a home out of himself for Ten to lie in, speaking out his insecurities and Ten kissing them all away. 

“you are allowed to doubt me and yourself, you're only human,” Ten said. “but just know, that despite it all, i'll love you harder, anyway.” 

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

>   
>  [Kun. ](https://tenactwayv.tumblr.com/post/636397863339950080/naked-the-day-my-muse-stripped-of-his-fears-for)


End file.
